


Only

by joely_jo



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Betazed, Episode: s01e01-02 Encounter at Farpoint, F/M, Friendship, Love, Mixed Heritage, Moving On, Self-Love, Working it Out, working relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:20:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29846262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joely_jo/pseuds/joely_jo
Summary: A few lessons in self-love.
Relationships: William Riker/Deanna Troi
Comments: 9
Kudos: 25





	Only

Only

_Betazed, 2361_

The consulate was full of Betazoid dignitaries and society darlings, all of them dressed in finest regalia. Some spoke aloud in deference to the number of offworlders and the Starfleet contingent, but others were clearly using their telepathy regardless. Lwaxana, however, more than made up for their silence. There was nothing Deanna’s mother liked more than an event like this and quite clearly she was in her element, swanning between guests and friends like a nomadic queen. She knew everyone and everyone knew her and her laughter could be heard across the room.

Many of the gathering were figures familiar from Deanna’s childhood, people she’d seen visiting the house or stopping her mother in the street to talk, and of course, the same old, tired subjects of conversation came up – her career, her decision to join Starfleet, her disinterest in settling down. It was exactly the kind of affair she usually tried her best to avoid. In fact, she’d tried to avoid it this time, but her mother’s pleas and protestations had grown so frequent that it had eventually become too hard to keep saying no and so she’d agreed, on one condition, that Will Riker could accompany her.

Somewhat surprisingly, Lwaxana had agreed immediately and before Deanna knew it, Will had been advised on who was who, which houses or wealthy families they belonged to and what secrets and scandals their respective pasts held. Much to Deanna’s relief, he’d taken it all in his stride and had so far put on a grand show – he’d talked jovially and easily with many, answered questions about his role at the Starfleet base and how he was enjoying his time on Betazed and smiled often. As always, his charm had won over the majority, but, Deanna noticed somewhat sadly, there was still one whose disapproval washed over her every time she turned her mind towards him.

Garzim Wrax, a pinched and sharply angled man and a friend of her mother’s from many years back, was well known amongst the community for his often vehement objections to Betazoid involvement with offworlders. His prejudices were many and varied and he nurtured them like his own children. To him, the Betazoid people were not doing enough to protect their culture and it was slowly being eroded by contact with other races. Most people regarded him as a crotchety old man and something of a loose cannon, letting him spout his vitriol while simultaneously tuning it out. Once, Deanna had learned, he had been spurned by Lwaxana in love and had not taken the rejection well. Of course, Lwaxana took great delight in teasing the man with deliberately provocative behaviour only to leave him sitting in the dust at every opportunity. That, Deanna supposed, was why he seemed to have an air of ill-feeling about him always.

This evening, Deanna had greeted him aloud, introducing him to Will and he’d responded to her telepathically, thus excluding Will. None the wiser, Will had smiled and offered his hand and only picked up Wrax’s attitude when the Betazoid wiped his hand surreptitiously on his pants afterwards.

Some time later, tired of the proceedings, they slipped out into the ornamental gardens and began walking the winding gravel pathways hand in hand, glad of the fresh air and the time together. “Thank you, Will,” she told him quietly as they walked.

“What for?”

“For coming here tonight…” She leaned into his shoulder. “For being a perfect gentleman despite everything.”

He smiled but was quiet, accepting the compliment. They continued to walk until they found themselves under a trellis archway where trailing night-flowering laudum had been trained to form a kind of tunnel. The fragrance was thick in the unmoving air. He stopped and tugged her hand, pulling her into a kiss. It lasted several minutes, then he pulled back and tucked the loose strands of her hair behind her ears. “That man, what was he called… Wrax something or other…”

“Garzim Wrax.”

“Yes, him. Is he always like that, or was it just me?”

Deanna shook her head, embarrassed. “Oh, Will, I’m so sorry you had to have anything to do with him. He’s a very old friend of my mother’s and his attitude is enough to make my skin crawl. He has a very high opinion of Betazed and its people. Once, a generation ago, his views were more widespread, but these days he represents a smaller and mostly insignificant proportion of the people. He still finds ways to make his feelings known, however. I try to avoid him if I can. He’s never made me feel particularly comfortable.”

“Hm,” said Will. “I noticed how he wiped his hand after we’d shaken hands.”

“Yes, that would fit. He thinks that there is no need for a Starfleet base on Betazed. That Starfleet are just insinuating themselves into our culture.”

“So he’s prejudiced against Starfleet? Or humans in general?”

Deanna sighed. “It’s not humans in particular, but rather any other races beside Betazoids. He thinks that by associating with other worlds and other peoples, we are diluting Betazoid heritage and culture.” She shook her head. “He opposed my mother’s marriage to my father. Quite vehemently, Mother tells me, on the grounds that it would destroy the bloodline of the Fifth House.”

“Ah, so I imagine he’s even less happy about you taking up with a human yourself.” He grinned. “Although perhaps he thinks you’re already a lost cause.” 

At that, she looked down, his words striking a chord with her, and not the humorous one he had clearly intended. It was a story she had tried not to focus on over the years and a hurt she’d buried time and again. Garzim Wrax was just one of many who had passed judgement on her mixed heritage. Even her own mother, despite her protectiveness when others did so, had been known to make unintentional but nonetheless hurtful comments from time to time.

“Deanna…” said Will, his tone soft and enquiring. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair of me.”

“No, Will,” she rushed to reassure him. “It’s just that it’s something I’ve dealt with my entire life.” She sighed. “My mixed heritage has not always been a blessing, especially here on Betazed.”

He was quiet but his hands squeezed hers, imparting his compassion for her. After a while, he reached up and caressed the side of her face. “It’s that word ‘only’, isn’t it?”

She tilted her head at him. “Only?”

“Yes, I’ve noticed it being used around you a lot. Even you use it – I think you do it without even realising about what it really means for you. You say that you’re ‘only’ half-Betazoid or describe yourself as ‘only’ an empath.”

Deanna stared at him, stunned. She had always been aware of the way other Betazoids had labelled her or passed her off as inferior, often subconsciously, without any understanding of what they were actually doing. But it had never occurred to her that she, too, might be doing the same thing, conditioned by years of exposure.

“The first time I heard you say it,” Will continued, “I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Because you shouldn’t think that way about yourself, Deanna. Ever. You’re not ‘only’ anything. You’re you.” He smiled at her. “And you’re amazing… beautiful… and smarter than anyone who would look at you and judge you.” 

There was such earnestness on his face that Deanna suddenly felt her eyes fill with tears. “Hey, hey, don’t cry… That wasn’t meant to upset you.”

She pushed herself into his body, pressing her face against the front of his uniform and squeezing him tight. “I’m not upset,” she murmured.

He held her back and looked at her, one eye narrowed. “You’re not? But you’re crying…”

“I know, I know. It’s just, nobody has ever said anything like that to me before.” She shook her head. “It’s a little overwhelming.”

“You mean you’d never realised it before?”

“No, I… I guess I’ve grown up believing that because I was half-Betazoid I would always be a little less than everyone around me.”

He frowned and pulled her into his embrace again. “Not to me you’re not.”

She pressed herself hard against his chest and absorbed the honesty of his words, their bright, hopeful clarity, and felt more glad of him than ever.

_Thank you, Imzadi. Thank you._

With a slow breath in, he kissed the top of her head and held her close. 

***

_USS Enterprise - NCC 1701D - 2364_

Will stood outside her quarters, hesitating. The sight of her on the bridge the other morning had stirred up all manner of tempestuous emotions in him, so much so that he’d found himself thinking hard about her and what had happened between them in almost every moment of quiet since. But with Deneb IV and the Bandi now far behind them and the Enterprise streaking through space toward its next destination, there was nothing to do apart from essential ship operations. He’d introduced himself to all the Heads of Department, spent an hour in the gym and another hour studying for their next mission, unpacked, showered and now found himself at a loose end.

It was almost ironic, he thought, how here he was, in a job he’d dreamed of since he was a boy, determined to prove to his new captain that he was worthy of his selection, but the one person in all the galaxy who’d most shaken him to his core, whose very presence in his life had almost made him change direction entirely, was here too. And they were going to have to work closely together. Picard had made that clear enough in his orientation meeting.

While they’d been down on the planet, he’d tried hard to establish a formal working relationship with her, occasionally being harsher than he’d have liked for the sake of it. He hoped she’d understood, that she’d sensed his need to set the boundaries and establish himself with his new crewmates. He’d had a handful of people under his command back on Betazed, but primarily he’d been there to learn planetary operations, diplomacy and the bureaucracy behind the glamour of life in space. It had been a very different role to his one here. Here, he needed to be a leader and a first officer and she needed to be under his command. She must be like every other member of the crew, no matter what he felt for her, no matter what he knew of her.

But how he did that was an utter mystery to him.

Swallowing, he stepped forward and pressed the chime on her door. “Come in,” she called from inside and the doors parted to reveal her quarters. They were virtually identical to his own, only she had already begun to decorate them to her wishes. She was standing in front of her bedroom door, waves of exhaustion rolling off her but still in uniform. Her hair was secured up in a tight topknot. It was quite severe and unlike the way she normally wore her hair; he wondered why she’d chosen it. “Hi,” he said, awkwardly, trying to seem relaxed even though he was anything but. “I thought I’d drop by and check that you were all right after… after everything that’s happened in the last few days.”

“I’m fine, thank you, Commander.”

Oh. Her formal answer halted him in his tracks. He glanced around her quarters, noting a few objects he’d seen before in her room on Betazed. “Are you settled in?”

“I’ve been aboard for several weeks now.”

He forced a smile. “That’s good. You must be starting to feel at home.”

“Not exactly. This isn’t Betazed, is it?” And she looked at him then, those fathomless black eyes penetrating him like a pair of phaser beams, pinning him where he stood. He drew in a deep breath.

“No, I guess it isn’t.”

There was a long moment as they both digested the deeper meaning behind their words, an unspoken desire on both their parts to accept that everything that had come before was now in the past and what they had ahead of them would be different. Eventually, she smiled and waved him further into the living area. “Come in properly, Will. Don’t hang in the doorway.”

He took a seat on her couch, leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees and she sat beside him, far enough away that would have been space for another body to sit between them. “How are _you_ settling in?” she asked him. There was the tone of a counsellor in her voice.

“All right, I think. I’ve been working a lot.”

“I imagine it’s hard to establish yourself as a first officer on a new ship.”

He nodded, paused. “Deanna, I hope you don’t think I’m here because I’m checking up on you in a professional capacity. I’m not. I really did want to talk to you. As a friend, as—”

“Will,” she interrupted quickly. “I don’t want you to view me as any different from the rest of the crew.”

“I know you don’t. But you are different, Deanna. I know how intensely you feel things and how that affects you sometimes.”

“You mustn’t allow that to affect your judgement though,” she asserted.

“I don’t want that either. I know I have to be objective. But it’s hard, Deanna. The truth is that I know you better than I know anybody on this crew but right now it feels like that knowledge could be used against me as much as in my favour.” He swallowed. “Sometimes, I… Down on the planet, I was very confused. I’m sorry if I seemed harsh or unfeeling.”

“You had a job to do,” she replied simply. “I understand that.”

She studied him a moment and he knew she was sensing his mood and emotions, trying to get a handle on the idea of him being here, in her cabin, as something other than her lover and life’s mate. Just as he was. He thought briefly of the space creatures from Farpoint and their ecstatic reunion. If only their relationship could be that simple! “You’re nervous,” she said after a while.

“I’ve been worried about you. I wanted to check that you were okay. There were times when you looked totally overwhelmed.”

“It was an intense experience,” she allowed, folding her hands in her lap and considering. “The emotions of those creatures were more powerful than the thousand minds here on this ship.”

“It was more than that.” He scooted a little closer. “Deanna, we’re all trying hard, I know. A new ship, a new captain, new lives… It’s not easy for any of us. We’re all questioning ourselves deep down, trying to feel comfortable here. But something you said down on the planet has been bothering me.”

She frowned. “What?”

“When you were talking to Groppler Zorn, you used that word again. You said you were ‘only’ half Betazoid. Why did you do that?”

He watched as she cast her memory back and realised that he was right, and the shift in her face showed him how she also realised that her instant reaction to deny his observation was pointless. Her eyes suddenly filled with tears and she looked away from him, trying to hide, but it was too late. He had seen.

“I don’t know why I said it,” she murmured after a moment. “I was trying to diffuse his anger, I suppose.”

They had needed Zorn on side at that point, it was true, but it still didn’t justify her making herself small so other people could feel at ease. It was what he’d thought he’d shown her back when they were together. People could talk about her diluting the Fifth House bloodline, but in the end, it didn’t matter what they said because they were in love and because she wasn’t ‘only’ anything. She was Deanna Troi and she was powerful beyond measure.

“Remember… that word doesn’t define you, Deanna. It didn’t then and it doesn’t now. You’re the ship’s counsellor for the flagship of the Federation. You’re brilliant and talented and—” He paused and leaned towards her so he could bump his shoulder with hers. It was the first time they’d touched since he’d squeezed her arm in the strange corridor beneath Farpoint Station, a gesture she’d barely even acknowledged, so far had she been into her empathic senses. “You’re almost as good as me.”

She opened her mouth to say something, then stopped, looked at his carefully cultivated deadpan expression with the telling twinkle in his eye and laughed out loud. “Will Riker!” she exclaimed.

He joined her in her laughter. “Made you laugh though, didn’t it?” he said.

She giggled again. “Oh, thank you, I needed that. On both counts.” Reaching out, she took up his hand and encased it in both of hers. “I know there’s a lot of history between us to deal with, if we’re to make this whole working together thing succeed, but if we can keep making one another laugh, that would make me very happy.”

Will nodded. “And me.” He brought her hands up and kissed them, feeling a sense of hope and contentment for the first time in days. Deanna had always made him feel at ease and he was pleased to learn that that hadn’t changed.

For a moment, he thought about bringing up Risa and the holiday he’d failed to make, of apologising or begging for forgiveness, but then he stopped himself. She was right. They needed to move forward and thinking about or dwelling on what had gone before would not do that. So instead he gently pulled his hand free and stood. “I’m glad you’re here, Deanna,” he said, honesty ringing in his words. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Will,” she replied and smiled. He returned her smile then stepped out into the corridor. The doors to her quarters breathed shut and he paused, closing his eyes and concentrating hard, calling up the memory of her and the lessons she’d taught him.

_Goodnight, Imzadi._

There was no response in his head, but he felt the warm flush of her run through him like a slice of bright, hopeful sunshine. It was enough.


End file.
